


Don't Drink Alone

by rivkat



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Drunkenness, Eight crazy nights, Other, conduitfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:43:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkat/pseuds/rivkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For starters, they were all pretty drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Drink Alone

**Author's Note:**

> For ciian.

For starters, they were all pretty drunk.

One of the new transgenic arrivals had put together a still whose output would’ve killed an unmodified human pretty quick, what with the alcohol and undefined “relaxant” she’d added. Alec and Max were splitting a jug, needing some relief from what had been an exhausting series of days in TC. Logan knew better than to try to keep up, but that left him to kill his bottle of wine all on his own, sitting across the room from them, over by his jerry-rigged Eyes Only setup. He was far from sober himself.

Frankly, he was enjoying watching Max get silly, and even Alec was less of a jerk and more relaxed, flushed and spread-legged as he slouched back in his seat and they passed the jug between them. Alec told a hilarious story about a guy he’d scammed, with a punchline involving three toilet seats and a dilapidated baby buggy, and Logan would’ve fallen out of his chair if his legs hadn’t been anchored in place with mechanical assistance. Max busted out with the even funnier tale of a gullible new recruit at Jam Pony, a box of bees, and a tragically mislabeled sex toy.

“That’s nothing,” Alec said when he’d stopped clutching helplessly at his stomach. “This one girl I was with—” and proceeded to recount a hard-to-believe scenario that was filthier than Logan was even capable of imagining.

“Bullshit,” he said when Alec finished, because he was honor-bound not to let the guy get away with a story like that.

Alec blinked at him, doe-eyed and taunting. “What, you don’t think I’m pretty enough to pull it off?”

“I certainly see the attraction of shutting you up by any means necessary,” Logan conceded.

Max snort-giggled until the homebrew came out of her nose, and then they were laughing at her until she started crumpling up papers from the table in front of her and nailing both Alec and Logan with her surprisingly pointy missiles.

“God, I miss sex,” Alec said, when they’d calmed sufficiently to talk again.

“What, you can’t get one of your little groupies to put out?” Max grumped. Logan thought about pointing out that there were twice as many TC residents who followed Max around, panting—hanging off her every word, he meant. But he kept his mouth shut because he wasn’t _that_ drunk.

Alec shook his head mournfully and leaned his head on his fist, squashing his cheek into a fairly ridiculous expression. “Bad for morale if I pick one, worse if I don’t stick to one. Like being a damn squad leader again.”

Max shook her head. “ _So_ glad I got out of Manticore before puberty.”

“’Cause you’re so well-adjusted,” Alec said, with only a hint of edge. Max shifted in her seat and Logan really, really hated Alec.

“What about you?” Alec asked, turning towards Logan. “You’n Max doing more than giving each other longing looks these days?”

Logan felt his lip curling, even through the alcoholic numbness. “You know we aren’t like that.”

Alec sniggered and wiped his wet mouth with the hand that wasn’t holding the jug. “Sure, and I’m not a screwed-up killing machine.”

“You _know_ we can’t even touch,” Max broke in, sharp, and from the look on her face she wanted to pound Alec flat for daring to bring up the topic, but wasn’t entirely sure she could stand.

Alec shoved the jug across the table to her; she caught it and drank and he raised his hand to the side of his head, thumb and pinky extended, miming a phone. “Don’t need to touch each other to get happy,” he lectured. “You tell him what to do and how hot it gets you, you touch yourself, magic happens.”

Logan could feel the flush rising on his face, drunk-slowed as the rest of him. Max looked no better off, though it was a little harder to tell with her. Except the aggression in her voice said that she was feeling something: “Yeah, like you know so much.”

Alec shrugged. “’s easy. Logan, open your pants.”

His voice had the steely command that X5s could produce and Logan couldn’t be blamed, drunk as he was, for the fact that his hands twitched before he could stop them. Max’s mouth dropped open, shock and something more.

“Fine,” Alec sighed. “You do it, Max.”

Logan swallowed, and he couldn’t quite keep his focus on Max’s face, so he was just a bit surprised by what came out of her mouth next. “Fine,” in the same snitty tone, and then: “Open his pants.”

Logan’s eyes snapped wide, because that sounded like—Alec was _standing_ , ambling over to him with the loose-hipped stride of a guy almost too drunk to remain upright, and then he straddled Logan’s legs, sparing only the slightest grimace for the way the exoskeleton must have been uncomfortable to sit on.

“Max?” Logan’s voice was breathy and he felt himself flush even hotter.

“He can touch you,” she said, just as Alec started in on the button at Logan’s waist. Logan wasn’t sure whether it was explanation or permission.

If there had ever been a time for alcohol to intervene and prevent proper performance, now would have been it, but Logan’s life wasn’t that well organized, and he was hardening even before Alec made it through to his boxers.

“Now what?” Alec asked, fingers light against Logan’s cloth-covered erection.

“Let me see,” Max ordered. Alec poured himself off of Logan and just as quickly pulled Logan to his feet, skimming pants and boxers down over the exoskeleton—yeah, Logan put it on first these days, so goddamn what? Alec put a hand on Logan’s back, just next to his hip, and turned him a little towards Max.

God, he must look totally ridiculous, a freak in a metal cage and a button-down shirt, and he turned his head so that he wouldn’t have to see Max, but Alec was right there. “Unh-unh,” Alec chided. “Gotta show her.” His fingers made short work of Logan’s shirt, sliding it off his arms.

“Kiss him,” Max said, her voice wavering. So Logan found himself pressed full-length against Alec, naked skin against Alec’s jeans and jacket, mouth opening without his conscious intent. Alec’s mouth was hot and alcoholic; Logan could feel himself getting drunker already. Alec kissed him like Max would’ve kissed him after all this time, confident enough to be desperate and unashamed. Alec had one hand in Logan’s hair, keeping him in position, and when he moved away from Logan’s mouth to work his way down Logan’s neck he made sure to keep them angled so that Max would be seeing everything.

“Yeah,” Max ground out as Alec dropped to his knees, sliding his hands up Logan’s thighs between the gaps in the exoskeleton. He went down on Logan as smoothly as if he was implementing some of his more exotic training—bad thought, quickly suppressed—and his mouth felt even hotter on Logan’s dick.

It was a sloppy blowjob, more licking than sucking, Alec pulling off again and again to show Max what he was doing, using his hands to make sure that Logan stayed exposed to her. The knowledge that she was watching more than made up for the patchy physical stimulation. When Logan managed to keep his eyes focused long enough, he could see that Max had a hand between her own legs, fully dressed but not letting that get in her way. Her mouth was swollen, like Logan had been able to bite at her lips for himself.

“Gonna—” Logan managed, and Alec pulled back so that he was only sucking on the head through Logan’s orgasm, Logan’s come slipping messily out of his mouth, over his lips and chin. Logan would’ve fallen over if not for the locked servos, panting as he dragged his eyes from Alec to Max, who looked just as stunned.

“Give—give it to her,” he ordered, because he needed to touch Max somehow.

Alec complied quickly—less shocking given that he’d just been on his knees, but still weird given how hard he usually worked to pretend he was doing whatever you told him for reasons of his own. Okay, even Logan’s orgasm-fogged brain was relatively quick to point out that Alec’s reasons of his own were not terribly difficult to figure out here.

Regardless, Alec got close enough to Max that she was able to grab him and pull him down for a kiss, open-mouthed and smacking, and then she was licking Alec’s face clean, sexy cat-tongue sweeps, and Logan groaned and put his hand on his spent cock, which very much liked the view.

Max met his eyes and then pulled her shirt off; Alec unhooked her black bra and immediately bent to suck one of her nipples, framing her other breast in his hand so that it was like they were both showing off for Logan.

Logan managed to sit back down without falling over, point for him, and stared as Alec peeled Max’s leather pants down her legs—even X5s weren’t able to make that look particularly graceful, but who cared when he was exposing all that gorgeous skin—and knelt down in front of her. Max’s eyes fluttered closed for a second, but then she looked straight at Logan, palming her own breasts because Alec was busy sliding his hands up her thighs, and said, “Yeah.” She was saying it to Logan.

Alec was noisy between her legs, the sounds wet and dirty-filthy-good. Logan could see her rocking forward, letting him fuck her with his tongue. His fingers were tight on her thighs, straining to keep her open as she flexed against him.

Max cried out sharply, her mouth falling open, gorgeous as something out of a pre-Pulse porno. Logan was hard again, incredibly, stroking himself as Max put her hand in Alec’s hair and shoved him away.

“Condom?” Max asked, gulping air. Alec hesitated a second and then dove for his jacket, discarded five drinks past on the table beside them. While he was fumbling to open the plastic, Max grabbed the jacket and threw it on the dirty floor, protecting herself as she got on her hands and knees, facing Logan. Watching him.

Alec didn’t protest the abuse of his coat, falling to his knees behind Max, one hand on her hip and one on his erection as he guided himself in. They both grunted, like this was a very screwed-up workout, and then Alec was fucking her with the same rhythm Logan was using on his own cock. His hand disappeared under her, out of Logan’s view, but Logan could imagine how he was fingering her from the sounds that she made. Her hair was sweaty, sticking to her neck, and her gorgeous breasts were bouncing as she pushed back against every thrust. Alec had his head up, eyes fixed on Logan.

“Jesus, Max—” Logan managed, and that was it, game over, coming all over himself until it _hurt_.

“Logan,” Max half-sobbed, and Alec sped up, pulling Max back so that she was almost sitting on his lap, still so beautifully displayed for him, Alec’s pale hand splayed over her stomach while his other worked between her smoothly muscled thighs.

Max whimpered one final time as Alec grunted, both of them falling forward and Max just barely keeping her face from slamming into the floor. “Whoops,” Alec said, reminding Logan that he wasn’t the only drunk one here, and Max gave an aborted giggle even as she flailed an arm back to smack Alec’s ass, which was some seriously impressive flexibility. Alec twitched and hissed as he pulled away from Max.

Logan had a sudden fantasy of fucking Alec while he was inside Max, a barrier letting him feel Max without touching her directly. It left him open-mouthed and speechless, slumping back in his chair while Alec shuffled around with his jeans still open at the fly, tossing Max’s clothes in her general direction. Logan managed to get a hand up when a nearly-clean rag flew at him, but he didn’t feel up to articulating his thanks in words, so he just nodded. Now he was drunk and blissed out; he’d be lucky if he moved in the next eight hours.

“Oh my God,” Max said with the dawning dismay of a woman who hadn’t had this whole thing on her to-do list when she woke up that morning.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Alec, expecting the usual smart remark from him, but Alec just retreated out of her immediate reach. He was staring off into the middle distance as he moved, dressed now and only waiting to reclaim his coat.

“Hey,” Logan said, soft. “It’s okay.”

They stared at him, Max dumbfounded and Alec less readable but still evidently nervous.

“Everybody had a good time, right?” he prompted. “I know I did.”

“I’m drunk,” Max said, accusatory.

Logan opened his eyes as wide as they’d go, even though it made his head spin. “Yeah, pretty clear on that, seeing as I’m right there with you.”

More silence. Logan was glad Alec was showing uncharacteristic discretion, though maybe he just realized he was the one Max would beat up if the conversation escalated. “Look,” Logan continued. “If you want, we can chalk this up to the homebrew, never talk about it again. But I’m not gonna pretend it was a mistake, or something I wouldn’t want if I were sober.”

Alec straightened, folding his arms over his chest, as if he were more surprised than Max. For her part, Max gulped and patted at her hair, which was exhibiting its usual preternatural ability to look good after intense activity. God, she was gorgeous, Logan thought, and realized that he was grinning dopily at her. So, he’d pretty much exhausted his ability to engage in rational thought; he was going to enjoy the afterglow and the drunk now.

“I—I gotta think about this, okay?”

Logan nodded, because for Max that was practically a commitment ceremony, rings and everything.

She fled quickly thereafter, leaving Alec still standing across the room, watching Logan like he was an exotic new lifeform, which was pretty ironic if you thought about it, or anyway if you were tipsy and thought about it. “You really down with this?” Alec was holding on to himself like he wasn’t sure where he ended and the rest of the world began.

Logan nodded, unworried for the moment. “You?”

Alec’s still-swollen mouth opened in surprise—very good look on him, Logan noted—like he hadn’t expected to be consulted. “I, uh—” He dropped his eyes, blushing. “I didn’t mean to mess you guys up.”

“Might have escaped your notice, but there is no me and Max. Not without—” he raised a hand and gestured sloppily, but managed to include Alec. “But what I want to know is what you’re thinking.”

Alec snorted. “Seriously? I’m thinking: I don’t get this lucky.”

Logan smirked in return. “I’m pretty sure that’s what the alcohol’s for.”

Alec jerked his head up, and when he saw how Logan was watching him—fond and a little fuzzy, at this point in the evening—he managed a small smile. “You, um, need any help gettin’ back to your place?”

Whatever virus Max had left on Alec’s skin was dead now, so Logan accepted the offer. Even drunk, Alec wasn’t anyone you wanted to encounter in a dark alley if you had mischief on your mind. Logan let Alec put a hand on his arm, guiding his drink-loosened muscles, and they left the scene of the indiscretion.

Logan wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but that was actually not so different from any other day, and he lived his life as an optimist: tell the truth and shame the devil. He’d done his part. Now he just needed to see what Max, and Alec, would do with theirs.

Do with their parts, he thought, and sniggered, which made him stumble against Alec, who was warm and solid at his side.

“You are really drunk,” Alec said, but he wasn’t mocking.

“Yeah, well, you’re really cute,” Logan pointed out.

And if Alec was grumbling about what he’d gotten himself into when he finally poured Logan into his bed and left, that was just an extra benefit, almost enough to offset the inevitable hangover.

Logan contemplated his ceiling, watching it shiver and spin as he slid towards sleep. Nobody post-Pulse had the perfect life. But some days, exoskeleton and all, he knew he got by as well as anybody could.


End file.
